


Down To You

by AvixiLynn91



Category: Adam (2009), Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal (TV), Spacedogs - Fandom
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, Gentle Kissing, Gentle Sex, Jealousy, Loneliness, M/M, Money, Mystery, Organized Crime, Pain, Possessive Nigel (Charlie Countryman), Protective Nigel (Charlie Countryman), References to Drugs, Repaying Debt, Seduction, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-28 04:29:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12598148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvixiLynn91/pseuds/AvixiLynn91
Summary: Nigel has debts he can't pay off. Knowing he has no other option, he attempts to throw himself off a bridge, but he meets a mysterious man and saves him. The man wants to live out his life helping Nigel, but Nigel can't get him to answer why, and he soon finds himself falling for the strange man in the process.





	Down To You

**_Chapter 1_ **

**__ **

_My name is Nigel Ibanescu. I’m thirty-eight years old, single, and rather wealthy. I’m popular with women, great at sex, highly desired and reputable. I’ve got many friends who promise me nothing short of a wonderful night out in town, and many people who know me come to fear me and respect me. I’ve never had to worry about being loved, cared for, fitting in, and adjusting to anything in my life. Things come easily to me at the snap of my fingers as I desire them, and most of all, I couldn’t be happier with my life than I am now._

_I’m also lying._

A large, heavy, pink fist swung, cutting through the air expertly, and it aimed, and landed right across Nigel’s nose, sending him flying onto his back on the cold wet pavement. He head began throbbing even before it hit the ground, though it throbbed with fear and worry, as opposed to pain and discomfort.

No sooner than he had been tossed onto the ground, two sets of violent, vicious hands yanked him back up to sway on his feet as he gazed ahead at the figure who had punched him.

Reno, a medium-height body builder of a man wearing a black jacket held his fists up tightly curled, ready for a second round of lashings and beatings.

Nigel felt his vision adjust, and he held on tightly to his medium grey raincoat, shivering from pain, fear, worry, and exhaustion. He steadied himself as best he could while he ignored away his throbbing, pounding headache, and he watched as Reno’s two right hand men stood, one at each side of him, eyeing Nigel almost pitifully.

Nigel spat out blood right at Reno’s shoes in defiance. He didn’t need anyone feeling fucking sorry for him or pitying him. He had been certain that his ex-wife, Gabi, had only married him out of pity than actual love and wanting to be with him forever till death do them fucking part. She had cheated on him and left him for dead with a much younger man, Charlie Countryman. The sniveling twat had snatched his beautiful wife right out of his hands, right beneath his nose, and out of his life in less than a few months.

After that, things had gone from bad, to worse, to absolute horseshit. His friends had turned against him, all the money he had suddenly seemed to disappear into thin air, until not a penny of it was left for him to spend. Alcohol and drugs swam in his system and practically became a part of his blood and body, until he could stomach it no longer. Everything dear to him was lost and gone to time, and he had nothing left to surrender and offer.

He had run as far and quickly as he could from Romania, and found himself somehow in the dregs of America, Manhattan. Life hadn’t been too kind to him there, either, and he soon racked up enough troubles that followed him as closely as his own shadow, until he was faced today with the biggest problem of them all.

Reno punched him once more in the nose, and Nigel was sure he was inhaling blood at this point. He stumbled back, but refused to be weak in front of them and fall down. They had broken him enough, beaten him plenty, but they wouldn’t knock him down any further. He held his nose in both hands, swaying, but managing to glare at Reno through it all.

The blond haired, dark bearded man snickered in delight as his goons watched on.

“Do you know why we’re here for you today, Nigel?”

Nigel removed one hand, but placed the other firmly over his nose to stop the bleeding from gushing out like a stream.

“I don’t know, humour me, Reno.” He winced at the sound of his voice, broken through his nose.

His hair felt damp still from the early morning rain, and strands of it clumped together like bangs, drifting down over his eyes and forehead, but making his dark brown eyes still visible through their sandy blonde locks.

“Darko wants his money, and he wants it today.”

Leave it to Nigel to borrow money and not return it to the biggest crime boss in New York. Darko had been his friend and had helped him out with settling when he first landed in America, but soon after, Nigel’s debts began piling, and he soon started running from Darko instead of paying back what he owed. The entire sum was lost to Nigel, now, but he squinted at Darko’s sent lackeys and smirked.

“So unfortunate your boss doesn’t suffer from memory problems.”

This response earned him a backhand across the face, and his head snapped to the right, making his neck ‘click’ from the intensity of the force behind it.

“And so fucking unfortunate that you’re not a paraplegic.” Reno hissed at Nigel, inching closer to him menacingly.

Nigel held up a bloodied hand. “Look, I know I can get the money, but I don’t think it can happen today, please…”

“Too fucking bad, you’re way overdue, Nigel.” One of the other men spoke, and the other flashed a long, sharp knife at Nigel.

“Darko should understand my position! He is also Romanian! Can’t he give me a fucking break for once? You know how tough the world can be to an immigrant!” Nigel began begging, backing away and hiding beneath the shadows of the trees surrounding them as they stood in the empty park in the cold, rainy day.

“You’re not even a legal immigrant, you fuck! Or do you want us revealing that side of you to the authorities, as well?” Reno asked playfully, but viciously, swinging a fist at Nigel’s chest.

“Just fucking stop with the fucking hitting already!” Nigel jerked backwards,“…I can’t fucking think!”

The men shared a laugh.

“If you could think properly, Nigel, you wouldn’t have double-crossed Darko to begin with.”

Nigel knew they were right, but he pleaded with them anyway, despite how badly it made him feel.

“Please, tell Darko to give me a chance, I know I can pay him back!” He winced and grimaced, knowing that the lackeys felt delight and pleasure in how lowly he appeared and sounded. Nigel could only wait until they had their backs turned…

Reno stopped the man with the knife from lunging at Nigel, thinking deeply to himself.

“Alright. We’ll go talk to Darko, but you better be ready for when he calls you, you hear? We won’t just be using fists next time, you hear?”

Nigel nodded frantically, feeling more of his hair falling in his eyes and blanking his vision for the most part more than his spinning head did.

“Yes! Yes, thank you, I just need time…”

“Very well, just don’t think you can keep fucking running from us, Nigel.” Reno threatened, backing away and signaling for his friends to follow suit.

“Wouldn’t fucking dream of it.” Nigel whispered, mostly to himself and to the natural elements surrounding and caving down on him.

The men walked away into the trees of the park, laughing and shouting among themselves, leaving Nigel all to himself, but not entirely alone; as his thoughts, fears, and worries for self-preservation and survival accompanied him all the way to the nearest Casino he could find.

{~~~***~~~}

Pete Emmerson was something of a friend/acquaintance who ran a Casino far in the underbelly and depths of Manhattan. Nigel had visited him often, and despite racking up more debts betting and purchasing things he would never be able to afford on his own, Pete still let him come by and visit whenever he wanted.

Nigel burst through Pete’s office doors just as Pete was sitting down to have lunch, and it startled the older man dressed in tacky vests and suits whenever Nigel set eyes on him.

The steaming sent of cooked crab hit Nigel’s pained and swollen nose and nostrils, but he ignored the pain in his stomach which reminded him he needed to eat, and he plopped himself down on the dark chair across from Pete.

“Nigel, you look like shit.”

Nigel nodded at him, and swiped his large bottle of champagne, downing the contents in minutes.

Pete watched him silently as he took his last gulp, and he set the bottle down in his lap, panting and breathing heavily, eyes wandering the office until he looked at Pete.

“Pete, I’m in deep trouble, and I really need your help, as my friend.”

Pete sighed and looked down at his untouched food growing colder due to being unattended.

“I know.”

Nigel raised a curious eyebrow, “How do y-”

“There’s no other excuse for you barging into my office looking like a bum and smelling like a wet fucking dog otherwise.”

Nigel looked down at his wet, old sneakers and sighed.

“I owe Darko money. A lot of fucking money.”

Pete glared at him, anger and hatred crossing his older features, making his white hair stick out partially.

“How much money?”

Nigel groaned and rolled his head up at the ceiling, placing his hands over his forehead, trying to drown out the noises and the lights, as they began hurting his eyes and head more than anything else he ever imagined and could bear.

“Nigel, how much?!” Pete prodded, patience leaving his voice and his manners as he slammed his hands on top of the desk.

“Forty-thousand dollars.”

The silence was worse than any beating Nigel had ever received. In the silence, Nigel knew Pete’s answer was going to be a definite, emphatic ‘no’, and he knew he was running out of people to help him. He much preferred it if Pete immediately cut to the chase and threw him out of his office instead of making him wait in pain and misery.

Eventually, Pete stood from his seat, and his arms landed on Nigel’s back.

“I can’t help you here, Nigel.”

Nigel nodded, “I fucking knew it. I’m fucked.”

A single tap on his shoulder confirmed all his worries in a second.

“Please get out of my office and Casino, Nigel. Wherever you go, trouble and danger follow, and I can’t risk you bringing the same to me.”

Nigel closed his eyes and he felt the arm on his shoulder slip and slide away, leaving him cold and alone. It was as if someone had removed his skin off his bones, and threw him in a single unmarked grave to rot, further sealing his fate and destiny.

“Goodbye, old friend.”

{~~~***~~~}

Every ATM machine he tried all over town denied his credit cards, his statements all read $0.00, and every clerk and attendant in the banks denied and rejected him. He had nowhere else to go, and he was wandering the late evening streets, when two strong hands wrapped themselves around his mouth and he was dragged and thrown in the back of a car and driven away.

A thick black bag over his head prevented him from seeing where they were going, but he knew where they were when the bag had been removed, and Nigel found himself dangling over the edge of a large new building which had recently been built. He wasn’t alone; he was face to face with Darko.

Darko, a dangerous crime boss with cold blue dead eyes and shortly trimmed blonde hair glared at Nigel as he stood and observed him, his hands deep in his suit pockets.

Nigel’s left arm was held by one man, and the right by another, and they shoved him backwards until his back was draped over the railing of the last floor of the building’s balcony.

Darko smiled a cold smile which barely made him look any less threatening and dangerous, and he extended his arms from his pockets and raised them up at the blue sky.

“Take a good look, Nigel. Isn’t it beautifully magnificent?”

Nigel turned and looked down at the ant-like traffic and people down below hundreds of feet, and he began feeling sick and queasy.

He looked pleadingly at Darko.

“Please, Darko, don’t do this to me! I’m sorry!”

Darko took in a deep breath, closing his eyes and humming as he smiled a wide smile.

“It’s been a while since I heard a man truly begging for his life. It’s wonderful to my fucking ears, Nigel.”

Nigel felt a hand tightening around his throat, and he didn’t know which of the lackeys it was, but he didn’t care as he fought and struggled to move himself away from the balcony railing.

Darko wagged a finger at him as if he were a naughty child. “I warned you not to fuck with me and my money, Nigel. You had tons of time and opportunities to pay me, and you didn’t.”

Nigel began struggling to breathe, and his eyes began watering the more the hand tightened around his throat.

“Just…give me one more...ch-chance, Darko! P-please! I have ways of p-paying you off!” He fought until the entire sentence was spoken, and he saw Darko nod over at the lackey with the hand around his throat, and it immediately loosened.

Nigel coughed and gulped in mouthfuls of air desperately, as Darko paced closer to him and leaned over the railing beside him, peering down at the sights below them.

“You have until midnight, Nigel, but that’s all.”

Nigel nodded and gasped in relief, feeling his throat burning from pain.

“Thank you, Darko, thank you.”

“This is truly your last fucking chance, Nigel. After this, I will be out to kill you with my own two hands, got it?” Darko asked, leaning down and grabbing Nigel by the back of his coat collar and gazing in his eyes horrifically.

“Y-yes, of course Darko! I understand!” Nigel held tightly to the railing as the lackeys let him go and began following Darko through the doors and out of Nigel’s sight.

He sat for minutes, just trying to catch his breath and calm his rapidly racing heart, all the while planning his next move.

{~~~***~~~}

He had truly run out of options. For once in his life, Nigel was considering doing the ‘right thing.’ He never knew what that would mean specifically before, but now he knew he had to set that definition aside for himself before he and more people got hurt in the process due to his mistakes.

He walked up to the downtown Police Station, taking many deep breaths as he walked up to the front desk where an older man stood typing away on a computer, barely acknowledging Nigel’s presence, even when Nigel rang the service bell on the desk a few times with short taps.

Tired of being ignored, Nigel cleared his throat, and finally the policeman looked up at him. He stood, and he was a heavy-set man with a bald head and tired green eyes.

“Yes? What can I do for you?” He asked in a bored tone of voice.

Nigel ran his hands through his hair, and he suddenly felt his raincoat swallowing him whole, despite his stature and build. He felt like the smallest man in the planet, and he didn’t know what to do, for once in his life.

“I…uh…I…this…this isn’t going to be easy for me to say to you…” Nigel began, eyes falling down to the dirty wet floor and studying the muddy footprints and patterns scattered about where individuals in his place once stood, but they probably hadn’t been as royally fucked as he was currently. Oh how Nigel envied them, whoever they fucking were.

The policeman didn’t budge; he stood frozen stiff, expression blank.

“What’s your issue, sir?” He asked coldly.

Nigel wiped his nose, and turned his back to the police man, feeling he was going to burst open from a panic attack any second.

He paced a few times back and forth before turning and leaning over the counter and whispering to the policeman.  

“Look, I’m in a lot of trouble, and I n-need to ask you something…” He started his plea, feeling his nose running, and he wiped it with the back of his coat sleeve.

“I need you to…to…put me in jail…only for a few days, please.”

It was as if he had begun speaking another language, for the officer stood frozen to the spot, and didn’t blink for a long time until Nigel cleared his throat and cocked an eyebrow.

“Please?”

“I’m sorry, you’re going to have to repeat that again, sir.” The officer finally spoke up, and it made Nigel want to throw a chair at him.

He slammed his hands down on the counter instead, though it didn’t stir any reaction out of the officer.

“Listen! I owe a lot of cash to a lot of people, but someone very serious and dangerous especially, and I have only until midnight to pay off all my debts! Please! I need you to really hear me out here, and help me just this once and lock me up! They won’t be able to get to me this way, at least for a while so I can think and get my fucking shit together!!”

When he was finished, he was certain his face was redder than an apple, and he knew his hair was frizzy, wet, and messy, and his forehead and nose covered in a thick sheen of sweat, but the officer still seemed as stone cold as a rock.

His lips barely moved as he spoke lowly.

“Is this some kind of a TV show prank, sir?”

Nigel couldn’t fucking believe it.

He began laughing, though it was due to growing and mounting frustration and being stuck in a fucking corner without a helping hand.

Nigel pulled on his hair strands as he paced more.

“No this isn’t for a fucking TV show or a fucking prank, man! Who the fucking fuck do you think I am?”

The officer gave a slight shrug, “I don’t know you, sir, but this isn’t a funny joke.”

Nigel growled, “Joke? You’re the fucking joke, you fat fucking useless pig!”

Moments later, he was flung out of the police station by two strong guards, and he landed on his stomach and hands on the cold hard pavement.

Nigel groaned, rolling over to stand up on his feet, and he spat at the back of the guards before they could head back inside.

“You fucking animals! I’ll fucking kill every single last one of you before I take my last fucking breath!”

Right away after he’d said it, he knew he never should have, for the guards began chasing him. They chased him all the way through the streets, the parks, the small apartment designated areas, housing for the poor, and all the way through town to a large bridge.

Nigel leapt across the side of the bridge, and holding tightly to the railings, he hoisted himself to the other side where he ducked down and cleverly hid behind a medium sized thick white pillar with a lantern mounted on the top. Several more like it were strewn across the sides of the bridge, and luckily, many people weren’t around that day, and Nigel was able to keep still and quiet until he heard the guards walking away when they couldn’t locate him.

Looking down at the dark water below the bridge, Nigel sighed. He wasn’t out of breath anymore, but he was tired. Tired of running, tired of games, tired of lying, tired of hiding, tired of being alone and forgotten. No one wanted him unless they needed something from him, and he knew he was good for nothing else.

He stood, grasping the pillar behind him, feeling the sturdiness of his back and bones as he closed his eyes.

He felt the clouds shifting above him in the sky, and he looked up with sad eyes, watching a few birds flying by and then disappearing out of sight. Even the sun seemed to want to avoid him, for no sooner than he had laid eyes on it; it hid itself behind some thick heavy clouds.

Nigel laughed a pained laugh that came out like a wheeze, probably from his fucking nose which had been fucked with more than anything else in such a short amount of time.

He bit down hard on his tongue and lower lip before speaking as he kept his eyes trained on the sky above.

“Why have you fucking abandoned me so easily? Why won’t you fucking help me out when I need you the most?”

The sky was silent, unmoving, and it grew slightly darker as he spoke on.

“I want you to do something for once! I want you to answer my fucking questions! I need you to listen to me!”

Nigel felt the desperation taking over him and it clearly reflected in his voice, but he knew he had lost. The game had ended for him, and he had run out of places to go and hide. He could at least muster up the courage to die and go out like a man, with some dignity, after all.

Nigel took a step forward from the pillar ledge, and looked down at the waves rippling and churning below due to the slight wind. He imagined himself beneath the murky water in a watery grave, and he leaned back, closing his eyes, chest heaving a few times as he gathered his guts to just do it and stop thinking about it.

He opened his eyes to take one more last look at the world around him to bury it into his memory, and when he faced to his left, he paused and stopped breathing.

A young man stood exactly where Nigel was standing; right on the other side of the bridge railing, grabbing onto the pillar behind him, looking down at the water below. He was wearing a small, thin white dress shirt and cream coloured chinos with small black dress shoes. His hair was floating in the wind, though it was short and slightly curly, but well kempt, unlike Nigel’s. He appeared to be younger than Nigel, a bit shorter, but otherwise healthy, well-built, and far more good-looking than Nigel was, though it was tough to tell when one was holding onto a fucking bridge railing about to commit suicide.

Nigel immediately began worrying and wondering about the strange man. Why would he want to off himself? Was he in trouble like Nigel was?

“Hey! Hey! You!” He called out for the young man, but the wind swallowed his words and cries.

The man didn’t seem to hear him, for he didn’t look at him, only down below.

“Stop! Please!”

Nigel’s worst fears soon came true; the man let go of the pillar and he flew down below into the dark, cold waters below with a loud splash.

“NO! PLEASE!!!” Nigel immediately dove after the man. He tossed aside his own problems and selfishness, and he hit the cold waters with a dull “plop!”

He searched for the man, and he saw him a few feet away, simply floating lifelessly. Nigel swum with all energy he had left, and he wrapped a hand around the man’s waist and with the other free one, he paddled them both to the side of the riverbank, hoisting himself up with the man draped over his back, head facing up and away from swallowing water.

Nigel rolled them both onto the cold pavement, and he took a moment to catch his breath as he coughed out as much water as he could, resting on his back and looking up at the cruel cold sky.

The young man beside him also coughed, which relieved Nigel, because it meant he was alive and that he had saved him.

Nigel turned and knelt on his knees, resting his palms on his drenched trousers as he studied the young man more up close now.

The man’s dark brown hair now appeared black due to the wetness, and it hung in strands all over his head like a messy curtain as he wiped his face with his hands and shook, trembling from the cold water after-effects and the breeze of the setting evening.

Nigel glared at him angrily. “Are you fucking insane? You almost killed yourself!”

The young man chuckled, sitting down on his bum as he gathered his knees into his chest and draped his arms over them, perhaps to keep warm.

“Yeah, that’s the idea when one is on the other side of a bridge.”

“You were going to fucking die…” Nigel breathed out painfully, looking at the young man’s clean-shaven smooth pale face and pink full lips that could have once belonged to a beautiful woman.

The young man nodded, “So were you.”

Nigel snapped out of his revere. “So fucking what?” He growled, feeling his bones aching from the cold.

The young man didn’t meet his eyes as he rocked a few times back and forth.

“Why do you want to die?”

He had the most plain, dull, and unreadable face, and voice. He hardly blinked, or made eye contact with Nigel, despite speaking to him, and he didn’t smile, frown, or look worried or hurt. He simply sat, rocking, and his movements oddly didn’t make much noise, nor did his breathing. He indeed was a very mysterious man…

Nigel felt put on the spot. This was a complete stranger asking him why he wanted to die! His most private and deep feelings and thoughts which he hardly even admitted and explained to Gabi, and this man who literally came out of nowhere wanted to know them? Fuck that!

Nigel took a longer look at the man. He seemed so…shy…innocent? Nigel couldn’t exactly label it or put his finger on it, but for some reason, he felt he could talk to this man…maybe not trust him, but talk to him for sure.

He drew his raincoat around his shaking body, grimacing when the drenched cold fabric pressed against his more-than-soaked clothes beneath, and caused more ice cold to greet his bones. Damn this man! He had caused all this! Nigel wasn’t really going to jump! It was just a last-resort thing that hadn’t even happened had it not been for this little weird dweeb!

He felt his anger getting the better of him, and he bit out his response with more venom than he meant to originally.

“Listen, I wanted to do it because I’m old, ugly, a loser, worthless, and I’m in a lot of deep shit. What’s your fucking excuse?” He sneered down at the wet young man who simply offered a shrug; a mere roll of his neck and shoulders.

“Same reasons as you.”

Nigel was in disbelief.

“Come again?”

The man shrugged, “I’m a loser too, I’m ugly, and I’m in trouble, too.”

Nigel laughed and shook his head, stymied more than he had been in his life.

“Nonono, that’s pure bullshit if I ever heard it for my-fucking-self,” he looked at the man’s appearance and shook his head again, this time more firmly; “…I mean, look at you! You’re young, you’re attractive, you’re smart, what could you possibly have that’s so bad in your life that you want to leap off a fucking bridge and drown yourself for?!”

The young man didn’t respond, but he simply sat, looking off into the distance behind Nigel.

Nigel felt he had had enough of this odd man, and he stood, shaking in the wind as he glared down at the young man.

“I’m leaving, I honestly wanted to fucking die in peace for once! I wanted to get a final moment’s worth of solitude, but even in my fucking last hours I’m burdened with people every-fucking-where!”

He walked a few steps backwards.

“You came out of fucking nowhere, and I don’t even know your first fucking name, and you’re wanting to fucking kill yourself for bullshit reasons!” He felt himself growing more upset and angry at the situation, and embarrassed that he was being so emotional; he turned and began walking away quickly.

A few seconds later, Nigel hurried back to the young man.

“What’s your fucking name anyway? I saved your life; I should at least earn the right and privilege to know your name!” It came out like a demand than a request, and Nigel pushed his wet hair back so he could look at the man as he answered.

The man looked up at his shoulders and answered blankly, “I’m Adam.”

Such a plain name, but Nigel would have never been able to guess it in a hundred years. The name suited the young man, yet it didn’t…it was all very fucking weird.

Nigel nodded, partly satisfied, still there was more he needed to be certain of before he left the young man named Adam alone.

“Alright, Adam. Listen, can I leave you alone now?”

Adam raised an eyebrow, but his lips and eyes were set in a thin, dull, cold emotionless line.

Nigel raised his arms above his head in exhaustion.

“You’re not going to go leaping off more bridges, I mean…right?”

He didn’t understand why he was so worried about this strange young man, but there was no sense and no point in denying it. He just wanted to leave knowing this man was safe.

Adam stood up finally, though he didn’t shake or sway as Nigel was; it was as if he was unaffected by the cold now. He was a bit shorter than Nigel, but they were able to meet each other’s eyes briefly.

“Guess not, because it would undermine your efforts at saving me.” The answer was good enough for Nigel, but he backed away slowly, facing the man, making sure he kept true to his word.

“Good…okay then…Adam…good…”

Adam watched him silently as he backed off some more, but then Nigel’s footsteps ceased their movements.

He changed course, and he walked right up to Adam again, and stopped once they were a few inches apart.

“Why can’t you fucking devote yourself to a good cause instead of trying to fucking kill yourself?”

Adam raised an eyebrow again. His skin seemed to almost glow in the evening light, a direct contrast to his dark body hair.

“Which cause?” He asked gently.

“I don’t fucking know! How about kids dying of hunger in Africa, or hurricane survivors! You’re young; you got a lot to offer someone!”

Nigel felt his temper flying again. He didn’t understand why this young man expected him to have all the fucking answers to everything, but it was beginning to annoy him. Not many people looked up to him enough to have a conversation with him, and he was starting to wonder about Adam’s sanity.

Adam thought for a moment, and then looked at Nigel’s cheeks.

“Well, why focus on people so far away when there are tons of people here who could benefit from my time and help?” He asked, though it sounded more like a statement and a fact than a question, though Nigel guessed he had meant for it to sound like that.

Nigel felt Adam’s heated gaze upon him and he nodded.

“Like me.”

“Like you.”

He nodded again, thoughts brimming.

“Yes, I see your point…I suppose that’s true, Adam.”

Adam suddenly sprung to life like a windup toy at this, and he clapped his hands together, and then wiped them on his wet chinos.

“Cool then! It’s settled!”

Nigel’s eyes widened at this, “What’s settled?”

Adam leaned down and poked Nigel in the chest gently with his index finger.

“From now on, I am in your debt for saving my life; I will do anything you ask of me, without arguing, without questioning it. As gratitude in exchange for my life.”

Nigel chuckled, thinking it was all a joke.

“Shut up, you’re lying to me.” He backed away a few steps, shoving his hands in his raincoat pockets, turning his ears away from the sounds of more empty promises and lies. As if he hadn’t had enough of that his whole life from people who claimed to love and care for him; now he didn’t need it from random crazy strangers, either.

Adam looked a bit shocked, or perhaps he was hurt? Nigel was unable to tell as the young man was so unreadable. His eyes grew slightly wide, showing off their blue hues, and Nigel felt lost and transfixed in them for a moment before Adam spoke again.

“No I’m serious; I will do anything you ask me.”

Nigel scoffed, but kept is eyes on Adam’s.

“Try me.” Adam had to have been bluffing, no?

Nigel decided to test it.

“No way, you’re full of it, Adam”

“Go ahead, try me.”

“Kiss me.”

He didn’t know why he had asked such a thing, and he almost expected a slap across the face, but Adam simply pushed back his wet hair and managed to look absolutely graceful as he did so, and he draped an arm around Nigel’s neck, and pulled their lips close.

Adam’s lips felt cold against his own and they rested over his closed ones for a few seconds before Nigel tore his mouth and lips away from Adam’s.

“Alright alright! I got your fucking point! Let’s just focus on getting dry, before we catch a fucking cold on top of everything!”

Adam smiled and began skipping ahead of Nigel eagerly.

“Cool! Thought you’d never ask!”

Nigel glared at the man’s back, but didn’t say a word as he followed Adam.


End file.
